I woke up after much too little sleep, crawling into the lobby for breakfast, then getting my stuff together for the flight out. I was sure that I was carrying more stuff than on the way in, including some books. I put a few of the books in with my CPAP, hoping that my bags were under the fifty-pound limit. I had heard some horror stories on the way out about people having to pay over a hundred dollars more for an overweight bag. Then I hauled my stuff up to the lobby and asked them to call a cab. After a few minutes of sitting I decided to wait outside.

The sound of jets was very noticeable outside. I was about a mile from Nellis AFB, and there had been a lot of jets in the air the night before. I looked up and over at the sound and saw four jets cruising through the air in a diamond formation. A little later a couple of them were flying at each other. I was wondering if these were the Thunderbirds, the US Air Force precision flying team. I found out later that they were. And also, much later, that one of the pilots had died in a crash. They put on a good show, but precision flying is a dangerous business, they and the Blue Angels are always losing pilots. The taxi finally pulled up, and I rode in the front with the driver and talked on the way.

The driver told me his daughter was interested in becoming a writer, and I gave him a card so she could follow my blog. We had an interesting conversation about a number of subjects. We got to the terminal and he was very helpful in getting my bags out, and soon I was checked in at the American Airlines outside check in, my large bag weighed (I came in five pounds under the limit!) and I was heading into the terminal and the dreaded TSA checkpoint.

What I don’t like about TSA, even when they are nice, which isn’t often, is the lines you have to get into and the hurry up attitude of everyone. I don’t hurry well. I have learned to have my computer bag already out of my carryon so I can save time. I got everything into their containers and through the scanners, and went through the person scanner without a hitch. Then it was to the trams to the actual gates. They actually didn’t try to rush me this time. That’s good, because I never hurry up when rush, and in fact slow down.

What always cracked me up about McCarran International were the slot machines and other gambling games all over the place. There was a whole bank of them by the gates, with an attendant to make change for people wanting to play the slots. Las Vegas doesn’t want you escaping with any money they might be able to get. In three trips I have spent a total of seventy cents on the slots, and that was at the Piute Indian Truck Stop outside of Valley of Fire State Park. I know the house has it rigged to win enough to make a living, and I’m not really interested in helping them.

I tried several times to get in touch with Budget and tell them that they car was not coming back. At least not today. All I could get were messages, and I left a couple of my own letting them know what was going on. I finally gave up. I had a flight to catch, and my message let them know what happened. I would deal with the mess when I got home.

I had bought seat upgrades to get more leg room, and that actually made the flight more comfortable. The seats still were butt numbing, but you could actually get up without making your fellow passengers move for you. A really nice young man helped me to stow my bags overhead, I strapped in, and started a conversation with the guy in the Virginia Tech shirt. He was a true fan, and knew a lot about my school as well, so we had a good conversation about sports and what had happened in the day. I made a comment about how I really hated the Uconn Women’s Basketball Team, and the nice young man beside me said, “and we were getting along so well.” That was when I noticed the Husky on his sweatshirt. Oops. We still got along for the rest of the trip.

We landed at Charlotte International on time, and then it was another long walk to another gate. First, I checked to make sure they hadn’t changed the gate. That had happened in the past, and I had made the long trudge to a gate only to find that the flight had been changed to another terminal. Somehow one of the food courts was on the way, and I stopped at a BBQ place to get a full meal. Not too bad for airport food, and I wish I could remember the name so I could shout them out.

The flight to Tally boarded on time, then sat out away from the gate for about fifteen minutes before moving. I never did find out what was going on, but since I was a prisoner on the plane it really didn’t matter. Again I got the extra leg room, which meant I didn’t have a seat in front of me since that was the arrangement of the first class section. The young lady next to me was an FSU student and I talked with her a bit, then went to reading. We landed close to on time in Tally, then had an inordinately long wait for baggage. I had to crack up when they announced arrival at Tallahassee International, and advised that we check the gate of our connecting flight if this wasn’t our final stop. Yeah, check the gate at Tallahassee, the International Airport with four gates.

Last time through I had to wait for the second shift of taxis. With the baggage delay, and another bunch of passengers from another flight getting theirs, I was afraid it was going to happen again. And it was getting on to midnight. Fortunately, almost everyone else here had someone waiting for them, and there was a cab right outside the exit. Another cab ride, another conversation, and then I was home. The cats were all waiting for me (except the black cat, who as usual was hiding when I’ve been away for more than a day). All healthy and asking for petting. Even Bobbie, my eighteen year old bobtail who has been diagnosed with kidney failure for the last year and a half. He’s thin as a rail and is always drinking water, but as soon as I sat down in my office he was in my lap, purring away. Tough kitty, and I was glad to see him.

I slept the sleep of the dead that night. I had held up for two weeks of constant travel, a couple of sleepless nights, and the wonder of seeing some of the most beautiful places on Earth. It took a week to get back to normal, whatever the hell that is.

It had been a good trip. I had seen a lot, learned a lot, experienced a lot. Not everything had been good, but that was life. Fortunately the hit and run had not injured me, the snow had not forced me to stay up in Canyonlands, I hadn’t been mugged walking to the strip. I saw a lot of beautiful country, met some interesting people, learned some valuable lessons. I can’t wait to do it again. Later I would go through the hassle of dealing with Budget and the Insurance companies. The adjuster for Geico, my company, out of Arizona, was great, and smoothed everything over, so there was that. My premiums went up, but not by a huge amount, so I’m sticking with them.

I had nailed down all the locations for my post apocalyptic novel, had my spirits lifted, and made it back in one piece. What could be better. Next time I will avoid going into crowded areas like Las Vegas on a holiday weekend, and driving strange interstates under construction at night. I also learned that unless I get in much better shape, a problem at my age, not to sign up for adventures like four wheeling through the desert. I spent way more money than I should have, but met and talked with some interesting people. Starting off with Wonderhussy, the woman who does travel vids of the Great American Southwest and was my guide on my first full day out there, to the Lion Keeper at Lion Habitat Ranch, to all the Park Rangers, and finally to the people on the plane. I have learned through the years that the best thing you can accumulate are memories, and this trip crammed a lot of them into my brain.

Monday, March 5th, and I was scheduled to meet with Wonderhussy to see parts of the desert I hadn’t dreamed of. I had always been restricted to the paved roads by the rental cars I drive, but there is so much else to see. Of course, if someone like myself had gone down random dirt roads I would probably get stuck in an area with no cell coverage. Someone, someday, might find my bleached bones.

Wonderhussy is the online name of Sarah Jane Woodall, a Las Vegas based model who spends her free time trekking to interesting places and filming them, posting them on Youtube. I was looking over videos of places I had been, the National Parks, the Mojave, and had come across a video she had done about hiking up to a cabin in a side canyon of Death Valley. I followed the links to other videos, until over a couple of months I must have watched a hundred of them. I really don’t know how many she has posted, but it must be near two hundred. She even has a video explaining why she uses the moniker Wonderhussy. Informative, humorous, with beautiful scenery, her videos are now among my favorites on Youtube. She wonders what happened to the people who used to live in the cabins and makes up some wonderful stories about what might have happened (hence the Wonder part of her name). And she also runs a guide service. Since I was heading out there anyway, and was already spending a bundle, I thought it might be cool to let someone with knowledge of the desert show me some of the sites. And meet someone who does a great deal of videos, as I was planning to enter the Youtube vid game.

Inside electronics room of the abandoned concrete factory.

Sarah Jane showed up at my hotel about 11 AM with her four-wheel drive lift package Toyota. I had eaten a good breakfast at the Bonnie Springs restaurant, had my cameras, still and video, in hand, and was ready to go. I had planned to film on the Akaso, but for some reason never got around to it, though I did get some great stills. I was too busy talking with Sarah Jane about a variety of topics. Not just learning from her, but also telling her of my own adventures in the east. We talked mental health, religion, science, and of course self-publishing. A totally enjoyable trip with someone who enjoys discovering new things. She was just as attractive and personable as her online persona.

Part of the kiln at the abandoned concrete factory.

We proceeded to the area north of Vegas, off of I-15, until we reached an abandoned concrete factory. I had seen this one in a video she had done, but walking it for real was somewhat different. More real. Not quite to the extent of the Grand Canyon, but actually being there made it real. We explored the outside, as well as the inside of one of the control rooms. It was amazing that so much machinery had just been abandoned. So much investment. In Florida it would be scarfed up and bulldozed under in no time. Or maybe it would have rusted into nothing. Here, it just sat out there in the emptiness, preserved by the dry climate and baking in the sun. There was the inevitable new trash scattered around, particularly empty boxes of rounds and some old shotgun shells. What is it about people wanting to spread their trash everywhere? The site also had some graffiti, and Sarah thought it might have been used in some films. We proceeded from there to a nearby town to get a couple of cold sodas.

One of the abandoned cabins near the Virgin River, with a Tamarisk tree to the side.

Next it was to what must have been a series of cabins that had been used before the interstate had been built. A roadside hotel? The interstate had killed them, just like I-40 had killed so much of Route 66. Sad. These were much like the cabins she visits in her videos, filled with lots of items like old magazines and newspapers that were well preserved in the desert environment. There were Tamarisk trees in the area, and the Virgin River flowed in the background. I heard that haunting whispering sound of the wind through the trees, reminding me of the Australian Pines of home. I looked over the leaves and was surprised to see that they were the same as the Australian Pines. Maybe not the same species, but definitely the same order. Sarah Jane related a story of being chased off this site by a man screaming about trespassing. To me the sound of the wind through those trees evoked relaxation and a sense of being home. To her it brought on memories of the guy screaming at her and chasing her from the property. This shows how the experience changes the reaction to the same stimulus. Okay, enough psychobabble for now.

Mountains in the distance.

The next part of the trip, and the longest, was up into the mountains. Sarah Jane was exploring herself this time, going places where she hadn’t been. We were going into the back country, where the Bundy’s and their supporters lived, where many old-style Mormon families stayed off the grid and possibly off the government net. Dirt roads climbing through the mountains, overlooking vast expanses of valleys. At one point we saw signs stating we were in the Grand Canyon. We crossed over into Arizona for part of the journey.

Rock formation with my guide in the foreground.

At one point near the start Sarah Jane spotted some pipes and backed up to take a short upward trail. I have to hand it to her. I’m a very observant person and I didn’t see anything of note. We went into a small canyon and found a wall of concrete blocks, looking for all the world like a dam. There were other artifacts out in the desert in some sandstone formations. I later found out that this place was called the Cistern, and was a project from the depression built by the Civilian Conservation Corps. Just one of the many hidden treasures out here in the wilderness, which includes abandoned cabins, old mines, ghost towns. You can see a lot of these on Wonderhussy’s videos, and I’m sure she’ll have more in the future.

More cool rock formations, with my cool guide getting a closer look.

We spent the rest of the afternoon climbing a mostly well-maintained dirt road around a mountain, then down. There were some dips that would have killed my rental car, and I was more than happy that we were in her truck. There were some stops to see some of the scenery from high vantages, but mostly it was driving by the many ranches and small cabins that dotted the wilderness. Really some beautiful country, terrific rock formations for this geology aficionado, spectacular drop-offs. Sarah Jane moved her four-wheel drive expertly over the road. To tell the truth, I would have been terrified to be driving up there, but I had total confidence in the professional. Unfortunately, I only brought a couple of candy bars, and when that feeling of low blood sugar hit that’s all I had. So, I ate them and didn’t take my medicine or insulin, really only the safe way to manage it at that point. I probably should have said something, but I was so into the trip that I didn’t want to spoil the moment. We passed some grazing cows (on what, I’m not sure) then some horses, and then we were in Mesquite. She delivered me to my hotel at just a few minutes over eight hours into the trip. Perfect.

More cool formations along the way.

It was an eye opener, seeing the wilderness like that, and well worth the cost. I can recommend Wonderhussy Adventures for anyone who wants to explore off the beaten path.

The majestic desolation of the desert.

If only the rest of the night had gone so well. I tried to get on my computer to look up the address of the Lion Habitat Ranch, and the damn thing refused to boot up. I kept getting a screen that said my hard drive had failed, and to contact Dell support. Kind of hard to do when the hard drive won’t boot up. The next day I was shopping for another computer at Best Buy. If I had been at home I would have seen about having the notebook repaired. On the road? I could only take one computer back, so this one was trash.

Next: Lion Habitat Ranch in Henderson.

And be sure to check out Wonderhussy Adventures on Youtube. If you’re interested in Americana and history, her channel is a great source. She explores ghost towns, old mines, abandoned cabins, and hotels/restaurants/attractions that have been put out of business by the changing transportation patterns. She fearlessly goes to these places, so you don’t have to. Like and subscribe, and if you’re looking for a local guide for the Mojave, I highly recommend her.

The Third Trip Out West. Part 1: A Serial Blog. Along with Part 2: Doing What We Do Best.

As I have blogged before, I went to the great American Southwest the first time in February of 2017. There was supposed to be a collaboration on a series going down, and the publisher had arranged for us to meet in Tucson, where the other author lived. He dropped out, and it was decided that since we all had tickets to there, and booked hotels, that we would go ahead and meet. I wanted to see some of the Southwest, so I bought a return ticket from Las Vegas and rented a car. While in Tucson I went to Saguaro National Park East, saw the aircraft graveyard, and took in a couple of other sites, and after the meeting was over headed up north to Flagstaff. The next day I was at Meteor Crater, then over to the Grand Canyon. Never been to the Grand Canyon? Go. Until you’ve actually stood there and took it in it just doesn’t seem real. I ended the day in Kingman, Arizona, and headed up the next to see the Hoover Dam and Goodsprings, home of Fallout New Vegas, with a side trip into the Mojave National Preserve. The last day I went to Valley of Fire State Park and Red Rock Canyon National Preserve. I loved it out there, feeling right at home. It was cold, below freezing in Flagstaff, but still dry enough to suck the moisture right out of you, but I could breathe again.

Because of an error with the rental car company, I was upgraded to the same car I drive at home. Even the same color, but two years newer.

I loved it out there, as said, but the trip was too short. I had an idea for a post-apocalyptic series. One of the highlighted areas would be the mountain north of Flagstaff. I needed some more areas, and that meant I needed to do more research. So this time it was a ten day trip starting in Las Vegas, in July. Again the Mojave, discovering Bonnie Springs Motel in the Red Rock Canyon area, then over to Death Valley. Death Valley, at least as far down as I went, got up to 125 degrees. I flew into the Grand Canyon by helicopter, expensive but worth it. From there I went to Zion National Park, then swung up to his Bryce, Capital Reef, Arches and Canyonlands. I went down through Monument Valley, missing the best part of it, and then hitting the Petrified Forest National Park and the Painted Desert. Finally over to Flagstaff to see Sunset Crater, then into California (Needles, hellishly hot) and to the Mojave, then back home.

Horsey Love at Bonnie Springs Ranch.

I got the idea for the next trip while watching videos of the region, especially the wonderful short travelogues of Wonderhussy. She is a young woman who lives in Vegas and travels the desert, finding all kinds of cool places. I found other videos, national parks, state parks, wilderness areas, and formulated my next plan. This time it would be fourteen days. And I would videotape it on the Akaso cameras I had bought. I would hit some of the same places, but spend more time at them, and would do some different things as well. I pre-booked all of my hotel stays, some places I had stayed before, a couple of very unique hotels, and rented the most economical car I could get. And came out of that desert region with even more of an appreciation for it.

I met some interesting people, had some great experiences, was terrified on at least three occasions, and almost met with disaster on my last day. So, for the sixteen or so episodes of this blog I will be giving an account on my trip. There will be times when I have to concentrate on other aspects of my career, but I hope to do at least one blog a week on this trip. I will have links to many of the places, and as I put my videos online at Youtube I will come back and link to them on the appropriate blog entry. Hopefully many of my readers will come along for the journey, and invite some friends. And I may gain support for some of the worthy people and places I found.

The Third Trip Out West. Part 2: Doing What We Do Best.

On Sunday, March 4th I woke way too early after not enough sleep to fly out of Tallahassee. I’m always anxious before a flight. Not from any fear of flying. No, it’s fear of sleeping through the alarm and missing it. So I was off, to little Tallahassee International Airport. Yeah, the international airport with four gates. And this time I was frisked by TSA, a first. They even swabbed my hands down to see if I had any explosive residue on my hands. I kind of expected that at a larger airport, but it happened to me in Tallahassee. So it was onto the aircraft for the first part of the flight, to Charlotte.

I normally fly Delta when I can. Delta has TV screens at each chair, free internet, music. This time I got American through Expedia. How was American? Well, next time I will fly Delta. Delta goes to Atlanta, while American goes to Charlotte. The first leg was not bad, since it was only about an hour. We got out of the airplane by rolling stairs on the runway, because Charlotte was under renovation, and there were not enough gates. It was a large airport with no tram between terminals. Many of the shops and even some of the bathrooms were closed. At least they had the moving sidewalk thingies in places. I always feel like airports are trying to kill me by making me hurry over long distances so I can get on a plane to cover longer distances quickly.

A quartet of Peacocks having a conference.

The second flight was horrible. Four hours in uncomfortable seats. Even with the increased legroom I had purchased, my ass was numb halfway through the trip. No entertainment, the people on either side didn’t want to talk, and the guy with the window seat insisted on keeping the window panels down. So no view of the Grand Canyon on this flight. Finally the endlessly uncomfortable and boring flight was over, and I was in Vegas. The long trip to baggage claim, the endless voyage to the rental car terminal, and I was finally on my own. The strange thing about McCarran International Airport is the location of the rental car center. You have to take a bus that seems to take forever to reach it. All of the companies are there. I had ordered a really cheap car but Budget happened to be out of them, so I was given a grey Kia Soul with the total electronic package. The same car I own, only two years newer. I was thinking that this trip was going to be really cool.

An oasis in the desert, the duck pond at the Bonnie Springs Restaurant makes for a relaxing breakfast view.

A quick stop at Walmart to pick up a fan, an ice chest and some water, and I was off to Bonnie Springs Ranch Motel. Bonnie Springs is in the Red Rock Canyon region, just out from the village of Blue Diamond, with the mountains of the canyon backdropping it. There is a small zoo, and restaurant, a western attraction and riding stables there as well as the hotel. There are flocks of peacocks roaming the grounds with their haunting calls, and the Mojave surrounds it. I couldn’t locate it on my new GPS, but I knew the general direction, and was already on Blue Diamond Rd. The mountains in the background were my beacon, and since I remembered the turnoff from the last trip, it was no problem. Soon I was through the entrance and on the way, Joshua tree desert on both sides. My favorite part of the property is the restaurant, which also has a bar. It looks out over the pond fed by the springs that gives the place its name. Ducks swim through the day, and turtles come out to sun. The last time I was here, in the summer, the turtles were out all day. It was cold at night, so they were nowhere to be found, sleeping under the water. Still, the ducks were out, the wait staff, a woman named Heather, was friendly, and the food was good. They had a fire going in the pit, and it was a very comfortable place to spend a cold night. I got in touch with Wonderhussy, letting her know I was there, and viewed the first of the videos I had taken, from Vegas to Bonnie Springs. And so the first day ended.